Page 5 of Stealing Embers

That’s definitely what I should be doing, but bursts of lights flash along the periphery of my vision, freezing me in place.

This is bad. This issobad.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We’ve been searching for you for a very long time. We just weren’t sure if you were the one we were looking for.”

Uh-uh. No way. That’s creeper talk.

Starbursts of light or not, I am out of here.

Turning so quickly my bag slaps the side of the restaurant, I take off. No holding back, a full-on sprint I never use because it draws too much attention. I can run faster than a normal person should be able to, and right now, I welcome the speed.

In a split second I’m at the front of the restaurant, but it’s already too late.

I skid to a halt. The chest of a tall, broad shouldered, dark-haired man only inches in front of my nose.

Backpedaling several steps, I check over my shoulder to see Karen standing twenty feet behind me.

“She’s over here,” the man shouts, his deep voice booming.

It takes no time for several more people to join the giant of a man, creating a human wall in front of me.

I catalog the threat.

Eight people total. Men and women. All tall. All dark-haired.

I’m definitely not getting through them. That leaves Karen behind me. If I jump the fence in the back, I can escape through the rear alley.

“You’re coming with us,” says Goliath’s twin.

Yeah, I think I’ll pass.

Flashes of light start overtaking the central portion of my vision.

No no no no no no no!

This is not the time to slip out of reality.

“Deacon, you’re scaring her. This isn’t the way to do this,” Karen argues.

“We don’t have time to baby her like—”

Flee, instinct roars at me.

I have to get out of here.

Right. Now.

I have no idea who these people are, or what they want. But what I do know is that if I wait around any longer, I’ll be a sitting duck. Stuck between this reality and the other, I’ll be easy pickings for these weirdo kidnappers as I run from monsters no one else can see.

Turning, I run directly at Karen, dipping to the right at the last moment to edge around her. The movement should be too fast for a person to track, but her hand shoots out and snags my pack as I skirt her.

Dropping my arms and shoulders, I slip out of the backpack. There isn’t a material possession I own that is worth sacrificing my independence for.

Jumping, I land on the fence like a squirrel, at least six feet in the air. The metal wires bite into my hands as I scramble to scale its height.

Light explodes in my vision as I drop to the ground on the other side.

“She’s phasing!”

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